The Ties That Bind
by D of The DA's Office
Summary: A legend of the Palm Beach PD is set to retire. Rita enlists Chris' help as she prepares to reunite with the officer she hasn't seen in twenty-four years, but who came to her rescue during events that changed her life forever. A pre-relationship short story, set 3rd Season.


"I am beat..."

The sigh reached the Palm Beach PD's break room several seconds before the rest of Sergeant Rita Lee Lance appeared, trudging her way straight to the refrigerator. "Soda or coffee?"

Her partner of three years, Sergeant Christopher Lorenzo, dragged himself along behind her. "Soda. Definitely soda." He veered left to the dinette-style table and flipped a chair around, straddling it with a thud and resting his arms on its backing. He had ditched his apricot orange jacket in the squad car and was thankful to have chosen a deep purple dress tee this morning instead of a shirt and tie. Chris' head was still spinning after their latest interview, and he chuckled. "Man! I thought defense attorneys were bad – that lady talked in so many circles, I think I'm _still_ lost!"

Rita set two cans on the table before she plopped down on the booth seating across from Chris. She leaned back and spoke to the ceiling. "She could have said only two words and I still wouldn't have been able to concentrate. Did she seriously have to have the fireplace going?" Rita let her head loll forward so she could shift her exasperated gaze to Chris. "In Palm Beach? In July? Un-believable! We stepped outside and it actually felt colder."

The fifteen-minute car ride back to the shop, even with the air conditioning running full blast, had done little to settle Rita's stomach or help her headache. She braced her arm against the back of the bench and propped her head up on her hand. Why had she picked a pant suit today? The royal blue ensemble with its champagne-colored vest and white blouse was one of her favorites, but she would be feeling so much better in a skirt right about now. Fidgeting, she fanned both sides of her unbuttoned blazer and adjusted her gun's holster position on her lower back. Mercifully, Chris changed topics, and between the light-hearted conversation and the cold beverage, Rita's condition began to improve.

Chris stood up and turned his chair back the right way. "You ready?"

"Sure," Rita replied, scooting out the opposite side of the double seat. Now face-to-face with the bulletin board, she became fixated on the splashy flyer positioned dead center that announced an upcoming retirement party:

_Palm Beach and West Palm Beach PD _

_JOIN FORCES_

_To kick out Detective Sergeant Loretta Vaughan_

_After 30 years of Decorated Service_

_We rendezvous where else?_

_At Society, at Night Shift Change_

Rita brought a trembling hand up to the beautiful photograph, which stunned her to her core. The mere paper likeness did nothing to diminish the strength and compassion in the dark eyes looking back at her. "Etta..."

In a fraction of a second, Rita was transported far into the past. An onslaught of unexpected memories and flashbacks cascaded through her with a clarity as vivid as the actual events themselves. Each vision, as it changed, sent a nearly imperceptible jolt through her body, and her expression pained. As if by special effect, the scene behind Rita's eyes suddenly faded and pixel by pixel, the printed image of Loretta Vaughan came back into focus. Rita swayed on her feet.

"Sam, are you okay?"

Rita dipped her head and forced out a breath. "Ah huh, yeah. This retirement party...you'll go with me tomorrow?"

Chris came up behind Rita and, holding onto her upper arms, read the flyer from over her shoulder. "Hah! You bet! No way...Vaughan? I thought they'd have to drag her kicking and screaming outta this place. Did you ever work with her on Vice?"

Rita shook her head, mutely.

"Aw, Sam, she's bad. She is bad ass. Years ago, she headed up a task force with Vice from Palm Beach and West Palm, and I got to see her in action. Man! She could make the most cold-blooded dealers just cower and, by the end? They would be cuffed and could still spit in the face of a SWAT officer, but Vaughan? They respected Loretta Vaughan. So, you never worked with her?"

"By the time I got to Vice, she was full-time over at West Palm and only liaison for here. I never did get the chance. No, I remember her...differently."

Rita leaned further back against Chris' chest, absorbing his strength. "Listen, um, I'd really like to get out of here for the day. You got plans tonight, or can I talk you into dinner at my place?"

Knowing his best friend better than he knew himself, Chris hesitated, concern etching his features. He moved his arms, so they encircled around his Sam. "Rita? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Mmm," Rita murmured, appreciating both the gesture and the sentiment. "It'll be a long, draining story, Sam, but I promise I'll tell you. So? You free tonight, or what?"

"Definitely free, definitely free. I'm gonna head home for a shower, but then how about I hit Wan Lu's for us?"

"Perfect!" Rita leaned her head against one of the muscular arms that encompassed her, squeezing it affectionately with both hands. "Thanks, partner."

* * *

Chris pulled up to Rita's apartment complex, parking in the spot next to her vacant one. He was puzzled at her absence, running the numbers in his head of how much time had passed since they parted ways at the station. Unable to open the driver's side door of his beloved Charger, he twisted his well-chiseled frame through the open window and hopped to the ground. This feat was much easier since he had swapped his dress clothes for shorts and a tee shirt. Walking around the classic car, he retrieved the bags of food from the passenger seat and headed into the building.

As he reached Rita's doorway, Chris knocked with his foot, not really anticipating an answer. When it didn't come, he shifted all the bags to his left hand so he could fan out his keys and select the one that his Sam had given him long ago. Entering the quiet, colorful apartment, he headed straight for the table and began setting out the food boxes.

He had just selected a bottle of red wine from the rack when the door to the apartment opened, and Rita lumbered across the threshold, blazer, organizer, and keys in hand.

"Hey," Chris exclaimed, worry clouding his greeting, "I was just about to call you."

"Sorry. I, ahh... I went to see my parents." Mumbling, she added, "all four of them," before quickly including, "ugh! It is still a billion degrees outside." Despite her haste with the final statement, Rita did not expect Chris to shift focus from the previous two.

True to form, he crossed the room and set everything she was carrying onto the counter by the fish tank. Reaching behind her, he pulled gently on her back to bring her close into an embrace.

Locked in each other's arms, they stayed that way for some time, not moving, not speaking. A simple offering and accepting of the solace that only the two of them could provide.

When Chris broke the calming silence, he murmured against Rita's neck, "you ready to tell me what this is all about, Sam?"

"Almost," she promised. She pulled back enough to look into her best friend's eyes, offering a weary smile as she assured him, "really, I'm more tired than anything. Give me time for a super quick shower and I'll explain everything as we eat. Deal?"

"Deal," Chris agreed to her retreating form as it headed up the stairs. "Let me know if you need any help in there!" he offered with a roguish grin as he went back to the table. He heard her footsteps stop on the stairs and then backtrack down two.

Peeking over the railing, Rita replied, "sure, I'll race you."

Chris whipped around fully, only to be met with Rita's playful expression.

Green eyes danced mischievously, and she arched an eyebrow at him. "Gotcha!"

"You are mean, Sam. You are a mean woman."

"I know," came the chuckled response from above him.

* * *

Invigorated after the cool shower, Rita descended the stairs with a bounce in her barefooted step. It was only five o'clock, but she was set for the evening-in with a gray nightshirt and black leggings. She joined Chris at the table, running a hand along his upper back as she passed him on her way to the chair opposite him. "Thanks for picking this up, Sam. I'm starving!" Grabbing her chopsticks, she clicked them in the air as she scanned the gamut of selections, deciding on her first choice.

"So!" Rita began, swaying side-to-side as she savored a piece of kung pao chicken. "Seeing Vaughan's picture today... That really knocked me sideways – I was _not_ expecting that."

"You said you never worked with her. How do you know her?"

"Loretta worked my dad's scene."

Chris' mouth, already open for the curry prawn mere millimeters away, froze in its gaped position. His eyes widened. "No way. Seriously?"

"Yeah. She was the only positive thing about that day..." Rita's eyes took on a faraway expression, coupled with an unconscious nodding of her head. But, she recovered quickly and continued, "after I found my dad, I ran next door to the neighbor's. I was still there when the police arrived – and, you know what? I never did set foot back inside our apartment... My clothes and a few extra things were brought to the foster care facility. It was Loretta, though, who brought Albert and my Suzy Pratt book over to the neighbor's. She distracted me. She was _so_ amazing..."

Rita smiled in appreciation and humble gratitude. "You know her as bad-ass, and I've always loved the stories of that rep, but I remember her as compassionate, and caring, and just plain...phenomenal.

"We talked about being cops: she was an Officer back then, studying for the Sergeant's Exam. And, I don't know how she knew about the arrangements, but she was right by my side at my dad's funeral. I knew no one. Just a sea of strangers, most of whom were too afraid to approach me. So, yet again, she was the only comfort I felt that day. The only one other than the minister who stood by me at my dad's casket. I have _never_ forgotten that... I utterly _gravitated_ to her. She was the only person I bonded with until I met the Lances. But, after the funeral, I lost touch with her."

Rita continued to talk candidly throughout dinner, responding to Chris' interjected statements and questions.

"You were seven, right, Sam?" he asked at one point.

A lop-sided grin spread across Rita's face. "Christopher, you remembered. I'm impressed."

With a caring smile of his own, Chris simply stated, "hey, it was an important conversation."

"Well, thank you, Sam," Rita beamed. "You know, last year after Tina's death and I lost myself in the Jasmine case, when Lt. Hudson made me see the shrink...she and I rehashed _everything_ from when my dad died. It put me in a much better place – and I'm still good. I promise."

Rita took a sip of wine and shrugged. "When I saw Loretta's picture, it set off a slew of flashbacks. I've resigned myself to the fact that I will dream about all this tonight, but I'm not really expecting a massive nightmare or anything. Just poor sleep – which is why I'm already tired."

…

As they cleaned up the take-out boxes, Chris was fixated on the day's revelation – along with Rita's mention of those events from the previous year. He, himself had witnessed the effects of her nightmares. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the terror that had wracked her body as she sobbed uncontrollably in his arms.

Tonight, though, Rita was definitely in control, speaking with obvious candor and even joking as usual. Both were a testament to her strength that never ceased to astound him. Still, there was one way he could gauge for certain just how calm she actually was.

"Couch?" Rita asked.

"Couch," Chris concurred as she read his mind, offering her a trademark grin he reserved for her alone. He set both wine glasses on the coffee table and turned to sit sideways. "Shoulders," he instructed.

Rita chuckled, but complied nonetheless, facing away from him.

Chris massaged the muscles of Rita's neck and shoulders. "Alright!" he affirmed, impressed at the proof he had sought to obtain. "This is your 'normal' level of tension. Right before you told me about your dad for the first time? I swore you were storing baseballs back here. This, isn't so bad!"

"Mmm," Rita purred, her eyes closed, "it still feels good, though. Thanks, Sam."

Chris continued to knead, feeling the knots dissipate beneath his fingertips.

Soft sighs escaped Rita as she relaxed under his touch. Her voice was sleepy when she finally opened her eyes and offered, "tomorrow will be the first time in twenty-four years that I'll be seeing Loretta."

Chris lowered his arms to wrap them around her, resting his chin on her shoulder as she leaned back into him. "Are you nervous about that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I kind of am."

"You know, if it's all the same to you, Sam, I think I'll crash here tonight. All that wine I drank."

Rita turned in his arms, smirking at him. "You're still on your first glass!"

"Yeah, well..." Chris flashed her a brilliant grin and ducked his head, as was his way. Admittedly, it had not been the best ploy. "Hey," he shrugged, his voice tender, "I'd like to be here for you tonight, Sam."

…

Rita drew a knee up to her chest, wrapping her arms around it and placing her chin on top. With a loving smile, she stared intently at Chris, contemplative green eyes narrowing as she decided whether or not to argue with her precious best friend.

"I like your couch," he promised, crossing his heart.

"Thank you, Christopher," Rita murmured, kissing him on the cheek. "You are the best."

"Yeah... Come here, let's see if we can find any old movies on TV."

* * *

Hours before the alarm was set to go off, Rita silently padded down the stairs, moving through the unlit apartment with ease, and careful not to wake Chris as she headed to the kitchen for some tea. She had almost cleared the living room again on her way back when she heard him stir. Her eyes, well-adjusted to the darkness, twinkled and she giggled as she watched him get his bearings and figure out his surroundings.

"Rita? Are you okay?"

"Everything's fine, Sam, go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

Chris moved to sit up further. "Nightmares?" he asked quietly.

"No, not really. Fleeting images at most – but just that 'half-sleep' where you don't feel like you're actually sleeping. I'm good. Really."

Ignoring Rita's analysis, Chris pulled back his comforter with great flare. The nonverbal statement was as much a command as it was an invitation. He further beckoned her with a wave of his head.

Rita hesitated, biting her lip. At last, the power of her exhaustion won out, and she surrendered to the security and peace she knew she'd find in his arms.

Enveloped in warmth, enveloped in protection, her body and mind relinquished control.

"Do you have enough room, Sam?" Chris whispered. But his question was met with only even breathing. Awash in contentment, he allowed his own heavy eyelids to close.

The Sams would both sleep soundly, waking up ready to tackle the festivities of the following evening.

* * *

_Society_, the long-standing cop hangout, was jam-packed with people when Chris and Rita arrived. Chris immediately saw an old Vice buddy, greeting him with a bear hug, and Rita signaled that she would go get their drinks.

As a space opened at the bar, Rita stepped up and waited for the owner to notice her. "Hey there, Eddy, how's it going?"

"Rita! How have you been?"

"Doing well. All hands on deck tonight, huh?"

"Absolutely! So, red wine, white wine, and draft beer are compliments of the party. What can I do you for?"

"Red wine for me, beer for Chris, please."

As Eddy turned to fill her order, an older gentleman to Rita's left swiveled in his chair to face her. His dark eyes glinted, and he offered her a sleepy smile. "Are you with Palm Beach or West Palm?" he inquired in a soft-spoken voice that Rita could barely discern over the blare of the crowd.

"Palm Beach. Homicide."

The gentleman arose, his six-foot-five muscular frame towering over Rita, causing her to chuckle in surprise. "The name's Alonzo Vaughan. I belong to Loretta over there," he joked. He held out a gigantic hand that Rita could barely grasp. "I'm ex-SWAT from West Palm," he explained in his quiet tone, "but I've kinda let myself go since retirement." He patted his flat abdomen and shrugged.

A mischievous grin lit up Rita's face as she studied the charming, mellow giant. Everything about Alonzo, save his stature, was so antithesis to SWAT that it intrigued her completely. They instantly clicked. "Rita Lance, sir, it's nice to meet you!"

...

Long after Rita was double-fisting her and Chris' drinks, she remained deep in conversation with Alonzo. It was only when he was motioned by his wife to meet another guest that they begrudgingly parted ways. Rita weaved through the sea of cops, greeting, half-hugging, and chatting with long-absent friends. At one point, her partner passed by, and Rita was finally able to hand off his beer, laughing at the amount of time it had taken. The undercurrent of nerves was temporarily held at bay, and Rita enjoyed the camaraderie.

Chris, in turn, made his way over to Loretta. He wanted to reconnect with her before Rita did, so his presence would not detract from the two ladies' reunion later.

* * *

Loretta, truly touched by the turnout, gave a brief but poignant speech, switching on the grit when her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. It was just what the crowd needed, and the battle of barbs commenced, volleyed back and forth in good-natured fun.

A rookie, West Palm detective took his turn and spoke up above the din. "Hey, Eddy! How about making Vaughan your new waitress now that she'll be unemployed? Vaughan, can I get a refill over here, please?"

Loretta snorted with feigned indignation. "Hush your mouth, Boy. If anything, I'll be Eddy's bouncer and drag your hide right outta here!"

The room erupted into laugher, and the newbie cop ended his banter with the retiring veteran by offering her a mock salute, which she returned in kind.

...

When Rita decided it was now-or-never to talk with Loretta, Chris squeezed her hand, and she gripped his in return, not letting go until both their arms were fully extended. Taking a deep breath, she made her way over to Loretta's table.

"Congratulations, ma'am. My name is Rita Lance," Rita offered with a nervous smile, holding out her hand.

Loretta lit up and accepted it with both of hers. "Hot damn! The one and only Rita Lee Lance?! Youngest woman to get her gold shield in Palm Beach's history – you beat West Palm's, too, just for the record. Us pioneers need to stick together. How in the hell have we never met before?"

Rita explained how they had been ships-passing on the force, all the while still addressing Loretta with respect.

Loretta immediately waved off the title. "Ma'am? Oh, please. No formalities tonight."

"Well, maybe eventually, ma'a –" Rita laughed, ducking her head. "I'll try."

"No," Loretta continued, "no formalities. Especially not from you. Besides being a trailblazer, the rest of your reputation certainly proceeds you. You're a damn fine cop, and I'm proud to be leaving the Department in your hands."

Rita blushed, tucking her hair behind her left ear as she reeled from the compliments. "Well, thank you..." She glanced sideways, desperate to catch Chris' attention. His gaze met hers in an instant, confident blue eyes seeking to calm agitated green. He encouraged her further with a wave of his head.

Rita returned her focus to Loretta Vaughan. "We might not have worked together, but we actually have met before. A _lonnng_ time ago. Back then you were Officer Riley, but you let me call you 'Officer Etta.'"

Loretta did not surprise easily these days, but Rita's admission held her full attention.

'Riley' certainly dated her encounter with Rita, as she would be celebrating her silver wedding anniversary the following year. Besides, only the innermost members of Loretta's circle were allowed to call her 'Etta'...and a ranking in front of the nickname was a designation she reserved strictly for children she met while on the job.

"I don't expect you to remember, but my dad was Donald Fontana. You worked his –"

"_You're Rita Fontana!_" Loretta gasped in a frantic whisper. Her tough exterior instantly melted, and she made an unseeing grab for Alonzo's arm. "You _are _Rita Fontana? And 'Lance'?"

"My foster parents' name."

Loretta's mind reeled with a cyclone of memories and questions. "Foster parents... They were good to you?" The authoritative tone seeped back into her voice, along with mounting desperation to confirm Rita's well-being. Her eyes scanned Rita in an unconscious once-over before her logical intellect could halt the unnecessary action.

"They were amazing, ma'am."

Loretta once again tried to get her husband's attention, never taking her gaze off Rita. "Lonzo!"

"What?"

"Lonzo –"

"_What?_"

"Lonzo, it's Rita..."

"Yes, we've met."

"No! She's Rita_ Fontana_. The Lances were her foster parents. She had foster parents, Lonzo, 'amazing' foster parents." Loretta's words flew out of her mouth at a mile a minute. "Rita, you have to understand, my husband, my children...they all know your name!"

It would have been impossible at that moment to determine which woman was more stunned.

Rita struggled to find her voice. "How... How could you possibly remember?"

Through her shock and haunted memories, Loretta half-smiled. "You were special," she stated simply.

Thoughts swimming, she sank down onto her chair, beckoning Rita to sit also. "As you well know, there are cases that stay with us forever. You were branded into my heart that day. The circumstances, your age, the fact that you were alone now..." Loretta furrowed her brow. "But then, there was also the way you carried yourself. Despite all you saw and all you were experiencing; you had a silent strength about you. One I have never seen since in someone so young. You were so well-spoken, too – you knew how to speak with adults. And, you were _smart_. You wanted to be a cop even way back then, and you quizzed me about every aspect of my uniform."

"Your studying paid off: you became a Sergeant," Rita joked.

"The patrol car," Loretta laughed. "You're right. I had forgotten... We looked at my exam books, and bonded over a shared love of reading. And you – you promised me you would work hard and study. Like Suzy Pratt! You did it..."

Rita chuckled softly at the mention of her precious detective story. "I don't have many possessions from back then, but I do still have the Suzy Pratt book. And my stuffed bear. All because you brought them to me at my neighbor's."

Dropping her gaze to the table, Rita stared unseeingly as she collected her thoughts. Looking back to Loretta, she avowed with conviction, "you were my lifeline."

Rita paused again, ducking her head for a moment. "You were the counter-balance to the horror, and the fear, and the panic. I was hanging on your every word. I took to heart everything you said and did for me. Whatever calmness or peace I had that day was because of you.

"You instilled in me a permanent comfort with law enforcement, and that childhood dream of being a cop? Well, here I am – because of you. And now... Now that I know exactly what happens at a death scene, I understand even more what all you did for me. You were incredible. There we were in my neighbor's apartment, and you casually walked me to the window to show me how the squad cars have their numbers painted on the roofs so that the choppers can see them. That was when they wheeled my dad out, wasn't it?"

Loretta nodded. "Guilty," she exclaimed with a soft grimace.

"One less scene to see in my dreams..." Rita assured her. "Some people need that closure. I think, as young as I was, that seeing him in a body bag would have terrified me."

"You possessed a wisdom beyond your years. I made the decision that you had seen enough." Loretta closed her eyes, "I can still hear your voice and your exact words." Opening them again, she quoted, "'he's not coming back, is he?' You knew...you didn't need to be told – and you didn't need to see that."

"You were honest with me, though. You told me the truth: that, no, he wasn't coming back – but that he'd always be with me. And...that is wasn't my fault.

"You let me ride with you in the front seat of the patrol car to Child Protective Services – and you came to funeral. You _came..._ You were the only person there that I knew. You were still in uniform; you probably came right from your shift... You will _never_ know how much that means to me. You stood by me – literally and figuratively. With you there, I didn't feel so alone."

"I couldn't stay away," Loretta confessed. "I had no official capacity in being there, but I – I just couldn't stay away. Do you remember the social worker assigned to you?"

"Ahh...not very well," Rita admitted. "She was nice, but I didn't connect with her like I did with you."

"Her name was Cheryl Montgomery. She was a dear friend of mine. Once you were officially made part of the system, all information about you was virtually sealed by CPS. I did not possess the stature to access it. Cheryl was bound by the law not to divulge anything, but she knew how deeply I cared about what was going to happen to you. For two full years, every time I asked about you, she would simply stare at me – and smile. That was our code. I knew you were okay, and I didn't hound her for the specs. But, after two years, Cheryl transferred out of state. The stiff-necked, hard-nosed..." Loretta narrowed one eye and cocked her head, struggling with the choice of possible nouns. "...'Woman'..." she begrudgingly supplied, "who picked up your case, would simply cite Article 'something,' Section 'blah blah,' and refuse to give me anything. And, I lost all ties to you. That, was devastating."

...

Guests began to leave the party, and Loretta was approached again and again, causing her to apologize for so many interruptions. Rita, however, welcomed the respite from the emotional conversation, reminding Loretta of the real reason they were there that night. Both women settled into a more joyous mood, shifting their focus to the retirement, their reunion, and their bond that remained intact. As the crowd waned, and dialogue generalized to the job, it was decided that they should probably include the men accompanying them into their discussion.

Loretta wound her arms around one of Alonzo's, watching Rita join up with her partner. What spoke volumes to her most was not the embrace the two shared. No, it was the intense connection as Chris must have asked how Rita was doing, and she beamed her reply. Loretta and Lonzo, soulmates from first sight, exchanged a knowing glance.

As the younger pair approached, Loretta chuckled. "I do believe I owe Lou Hudson an apology. When he came back to Vice after being your CO on Homicide, he tried to convince me that you two shared a bond like nothing he had ever seen on the force. I told him he was going soft – even though I had heard plenty of stories about the legendary 'Lance and Lorenzo' duo. Now... Now that I've witnessed it firsthand, I know that he was right. Hot damn!"

The foursome began laughing and chatting, exchanging war stories all the way until Eddy hollered for last call. Pleased with their feat at closing out _Society_, they said their goodbyes to him and headed out to the parking lot.

Rita and Alonzo were leading the way, which gave Loretta the chance to talk to Chris. "That partner of yours has got gumption. She's tough as a pine knot – just like me. But, I'm so glad she has _you_, Lorenzo." Loretta hugged Chris, adding with double meaning, "you are so perfect together." Before Chris could question her, Loretta had moved ahead to say goodbye to Rita.

Both women knew that a handshake would not suffice. Loretta Riley Vaughan and Rita Fontana Lance embraced, for the first time in twenty-four years.

"Thank you, ma'am," Rita offered, still locked in Loretta's arms. "For everything. I'll do my best to continue making you and the Department proud."

"Rita, you must be outside your mind if you think I'm gonna let you call me ma'am. Etta. _You_ are to call me Etta."

"Okay, okay, " Rita relented with a Cheshire-cat grin as they separated. "You take care. Enjoy your well-earned retirement – Etta."

"You've made this night for me, Rita. I retire with complete peace of mind and heart." Loretta reached into her purse, pulling out a business card and a pen. She turned the card over and began to write. "We are family – in more ways than one – and I do _not_ want to lose contact with you again. This is my home address and phone number. There'll be a family retirement party there on Saturday at five o'clock. If you don't have plans or aren't on-duty, I'd be honored if you and Chris could attend."

"_You'd_ be honored..." Rita murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. She brought out a card of her own and reciprocated the gesture. "Definitely stay in touch, okay?"

They hugged again, then offered another goodbye to their respective gentlemen.

Walking to the Charger, Chris extended the crook of his arm, and Rita immediately grasped it, hugging it as he kissed the top of her head.

Rita looked back to Etta, the link to her past. Then, she looked to Chris, her link to the present – and if she ever allowed herself to admit it – her link to the future.

Never before had they felt so strong,

these ties that bind.

The End

* * *

_Author's Note_: A heartfelt 'thank you' to all Visitors who read my stories. Please know that feedback is appreciated - in any language. I have a _penchant_ for languages, having studied (only?) six so far, and can read in Spanish, French, and Italian. I welcome the challenge of translating ANY language - and once I figure out how to type special characters in FFN...I will work to reply in kind! If you believe I am up to the challenge: fill up that lovely Comment Box below! ;)


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